Hallow's Eve
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Ghosts? Spirits? Unlike his servant, Arthur does not believe in such things. But when something happens he can't explain, is he forced to change his mind? Halloween fic!


**Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't be writing it on here, so alas, nothing is mine!**

"So are you going to get spooked tonight?"

Wrenching his eyes open, Arthur sat up straighter in his chair, flexing his fingers out in order to stop them completely stiffening around the quill in his hand. Slightly alarmed, he let his eyes roam his chambers before they eventually fell on Merlin, sitting at the foot of the prince's bed, rag in one hand, boots lined up next to him. Luckily, his mind half being on the task for once, it meant he had not noticed that instead of trawling his way through the report like he was supposed to be, Arthur had dozed off. It wasn't his fault, the warning bell had sounded in the middle of the night last night, leading to a wild goose chase around half of Camelot, only to find the man on watch had been at the ale. The prince, as was to be expected, was not best pleased.

"What?" He snapped somewhat bluntly at his servant, having missed half of whatever it was Merlin had been rambling on about (the boy had not stopped talking for the last hour, Arthur had stopped listening a while back), but not wanting to admit he had drifted off. Whilst Merlin may only be his servant, it wouldn't stop him from ridiculing the prince for as long as he thought he could get away with it.

"Tonight." Merlin repeated, finally glancing up from his task to observe his master in something that could resemble amusement. Unlike the prince, Merlin was not nearly as unobservant, he had indeed noticed the evening out of his breathing, he knew Arthur had fallen asleep. After letting him rest awhile, he had thought it would be a good idea to wake him up again, not knowing who could walk through the door at any moment. It would do Arthur no good if the King was to walk in, and instead of finding the Crown Prince attending his duties, found him having a nap. Merlin knew he had once again saved Arthur, and once again, the prince wouldn't even realise.

"What about tonight?"

"Are you going to get spooked?"

"_Mer_lin, what _are_ you talking about? Why on earth would I be getting spooked?"

"Hallows Eve. Oh come on, you must know about that?"

"Merlin, I'll say it one more time, what are you talking about?"

"Do you not have it here?"

"Merlin!" Meeting Arthur's gaze with an exasperated sigh, Merlin could tell by the look on the prince's face that he really didn't have a clue what his servant was going on about. That in itself surprised Merlin, he thought that everyone joined in the fun of Halloween, but maybe Camelot didn't. Last year had been different, it had fallen at the same time as Arthur managing to curse the city, any festive had been put aside due to the worry of starvation. Meaning this was Merlin's first Halloween in Camelot, and it could well be he was on his own with this one. Sitting up straighter, Merlin put the rag down, knowing he was going to need his ducking skills on this one, Arthur tended to throw things when Merlin explained customs he found strange.

"It is something we do in our village. Tonight is supposed to be the one night of the year where the dead or something can rise, something to do with the two realms being closer together. I don't really know, all we knew was that you got to dress up and walk around the village and then everyone has a massive bonfire."

"Sounds… nice," Arthur muttered, one eyebrow raised in a way that barely concealed his amusement at how animated Merlin sounded. He was constantly coming out with these strange traditions he used to have back in Ealdor, last Yule he had been going on about some mythical man dressed in red was going to break into Arthur's chambers and drink his wine. Sometimes, not that he would admit it, but sometimes, Arthur did worry about the sanity of his servant.

"It's so much fun, you get to go around and ask people for stuff and if they don't give it to you, they have to do a forfeit…"

"Merlin!" Breaking him off before Merlin got too carried away, Arthur finally put down his quill, knowing that any pretence of working was now gone.

"You didn't explain why I would be spooked."

"Because of all the dead coming back to life tonight." Merlin stated in such a matter of fact way, giving the prince a look that clearly said he didn't understand why Arthur hadn't picked up on it. Fixing him with a disbelieving look, Arthur opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Merlin rolled his eyes, butting in first.

"It's a superstition, Arthur. People don't really think they will come back, but it is a festival. A time to have fun. Or don't you know what that is?"

"Watch it, it's not too late to put you in the stocks, you know. Why would people want to believe that anyway, unless sorcery is involved?"

"Oh I should have known," Merlin muttered to himself, climbing to his feet and shaking out his legs to try and get the blood flowing again. Arthur had far too many pairs of boots to do that job sitting on the floor, he would have to think of a new position for next time. "It always has to be sorcery. Never mind the fun, never mind getting to pretend to be all scared of the ghouls at your window, oh no, it has to be sorcery."

Clearing his throat meaningfully, Arthur also stood, waiting to see when Merlin was going to realise quite what was coming out of his mouth. Even after all of this time together, the warlock had no yet mastered where the line between servant and friend was, meaning on many occasion he overstepped it, not knowing when to stop. Now being one of those occasions. When the boy continued to moan to himself about how apparently short sighted the prince was, Arthur had had enough.

"Merlin?"

"So it definitely… ahh. Yes, Arthur?" The last bit added on rather hesitantly, Merlin winced. He hadn't meant to say that out loud, it just seemed that every tradition Ealdor had, Arthur mocked for being related to magic. The warlock had had enough, but had forgotten at this moment in time, he was in the presence of Arthur the prince, not Arthur the man. For some people, they couldn't tell the difference, but Merlin had spent too much time with him. He could tell.

Arthur, however, didn't answer verbally. Instead, he just stared at his servant, eyebrows raised until Merlin began to shift uncomfortably. As soon as the boy began to fidget, Arthur knew he had managed to get his message across. Merlin may be able to tell the different sides of Arthur, but the prince knew without anything being said when Merlin received a message.

"Sorry, Sire."

"Besides, Merlin, its nonsense. There is no such thing as ghosts or spirits or anything like that anyway, and if there was, surely they would only mean to kill us all, meaning there is absolutely nothing to celebrate at all?"

"Indeed, Sire." Merlin muttered, knowing he wouldn't be able to tell Arthur that he was once again missing the point. Even Merlin wasn't suicidal.

"Go home, Merlin, you've been polishing the same boot for about an hour now."

"I have?" The warlock asked, glancing sheepishly at the shoe clutched in his hand. And he had thought Arthur had been asleep.

"Yep," the prince responded cheerfully with a grin, sitting back down and slowly picking up the quill again. "You were in your own little world, probably surrounded by ghosts."

"Oh shut up, Sire." Merlin mumbled, the tops of his ears burning red. Arthur was right, he had been lost in thoughts, the memories of the Halloween festivals back in Ealdor coming to the forefront of his mind. It had always been such a laugh.

"Idiot. Go on, get back to Gaius, I have reports to finish, I can't be doing with listening to tales about spirits coming to kill me whilst I sleep."

Smirking, Merlin set off. There was once a time when that would annoy him about Arthur, the abrupt dismissals and the irritated summoning, but now, he could catch the fondness in Arthur's voice when he was sent away, amusement laced within his tone. And as for the irritable summoning, either something would have happened to make the prince angry, meaning Merlin was just the vent for his frustrations, or the servant was running late. And as Gaius always took what appeared to be great delight in telling him every time it happened, that was the warlock's own fault. Not that that would stop him grumbling about it though.

Walking along the corridors, a spring in his step as he considered what he could do with the newly found free hours he had just gained, it took Merlin a moment to realise what he was hearing. Eventually coming to a stop, the warlock glanced about him anxiously, determined to try and locate the source of the noise. For despite the corridor appearing to be deserted, someone, somewhere, was crying.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Rolling his eyes as no answer came back, yet the crying intensified, Merlin knew he would have to physically search. How many times had he asked that and actually got an answer which then didn't involve someone trying to kill him? He'd have thought by now he would have learnt, but no matter what he told the prince, he was not the quickest learner around, something his mentor knew only too well.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," continuing his endless supply of reassurances, Merlin began searching the corridor. He knew he wasn't imagining the noise, someone was definitely upset, yet for the life of him, the warlock couldn't locate the source of the crying.

After what seemed like a lifetime of finding absolutely nothing, Merlin stretched up achingly, yawning as he did so. He was really beginning to feel spending the afternoon sitting on Arthur's floor, definitely needed to find a new position for polishing the boots in. It had been so comfortable to start with, but then the servant had forgotten to move, causing his muscles to seize up and resulting in one very stiff warlock. Lowering his arms with a sigh, Merlin shook his head before turning on his heel and making to walk back up the corridor. Whoever it was obviously didn't want to be found.

Just as he turned, however, something caught his eye. Squinting, Merlin crossed the corridor quickly, frowning in confusion at the apparent gap in the stone work near the floor. Bewildered, Merlin looked hastily around him, but the corridor was empty. Cautiously, allowing the magic to fill him up as a precaution, Merlin peered through the gap, his confusion growing even more when he caught sight of a small opening on the other side of the wall.

Rocking back on his heels, now completely bemused, Merlin let his interest levels get the better of him, and whispering a spell so quietly he himself barely heard it, the warlock allowed the magic to trickle through the gap. He had walked down this corridor hundreds of times, knew for a fact that there had never been a hole there before. But never before had he walked down it on Hallows Eve. Shuddering slightly, Merlin mentally shook himself, knowing scaring himself with something that wasn't real was by no means going to help him solve the mystery, the warlock instead went back to feeding the magic through the hole, watching in amazement as it lit up the room within. The place had quite clearly been walled up some time ago, dust and cobwebs covered everything. But there was something in the centre of the room, something Merlin couldn't quite work out. Tilting his head first one way, then the other, the servant cursed under his breath in frustration as he realised he still couldn't make out what it was. And yet, knowing there was something mysterious in a secret room meant Merlin could not simply walk away.

Very slowly, the magic still pouring from his hand, he moved it away from the opening. Lying down on the floor, the warlock knew he had to be quick about this, for if anyone was to come down the corridor now, he would have a fun job of trying to explain what on earth he was doing. Wriggling the rest of the way forward on his stomach, Merlin pressed his eye to the hole, squeezing the opposite one shut in order to get a better look. However, as soon as his head touched the stone, Merlin felt the strangest sensation shoot through him, making him feel like he was being doused in very cold water. And thanks to Arthur, he knew precisely what that felt like. Shutting both his eyes with a sudden gasp, Merlin couldn't help but shiver as the feeling continued, before it suddenly disappeared as fast as it had come.

"Phew," the warlock breathed, taking a few moments to regain his breath before opening his eyes. And promptly shutting them again, before reopening them, just to check that they weren't playing tricks on him. For there could be no denying the dust and the cobwebs, not to mention his own magical orbs lighting up the area with a soft blue light. Somehow, and he had no idea how, Merlin had ended up the other side of the wall, now in the secret room himself.

"What the-?" Muttering to himself as he stood –slightly shakily – back up again, Merlin ran a hand through his hair, completely and utterly bewildered. For the life of him, he had no idea what had happened. Deciding he may as well explore the room properly whilst he had the chance (he never knew, maybe it would be a good hide out at some point), Merlin set slowly off, using odd bursts of magic to shift some of the more stubborn cobwebs.

He hadn't got very far around the room when his foot collided with something, sending him pitching forward with a somewhat startled yelp. He had forgotten about whatever it was that had been in the middle of the floor. Peering over his shoulder at what it was that had tripped him, Merlin yelled in horror, scrambling away as far as he could. He had always thought the tales regarding Hallows Eve were superstition, aimed to scare the children. But now he was not so sure.

For having obviously been here for a considerable length of time, the bones were the only thing that was left of the last person to become trapped in the strange, secret room.

MMMM

Arthur irritably rolled over again, sighing – somewhat dramatically – as he did so. He had no idea why he couldn't sleep, it just felt like there was something watching him. Angrily plummeting his pillows into what he hoped was a more comfortable position, the prince knew he was going to kill his servant in the morning. For he was sure that these strange sensations and his restlessness was due to Merlin's idiotic prattling about ghosts and demons coming to life. Not that he would tell the other boy that though, to admit he had been driven to insomnia because of Merlin's tales would be admitting that the servant had succeeded in spooking him, something Arthur would never admit too. No, he thought somewhat smugly as he rolled back over again, staring at the drapes over his bed, he would just have to think of some other reason to get back at him.

After completely managing to tangle himself up in the sheets due to his restless, Arthur eventually swung his legs out of bed. Shivering slightly as the cool night air attacking his exposed chest, he grabbed the nearest shirt, pulling it roughly over his head as he leant against the wall, staring out of the window. Fires were still burning in the lower town, making the kingdom seem to almost sparkle, the full moon bathing the entire place in a soft light. Smiling softly, Arthur allowed himself to be lost in the view, unable to deny the pride blossoming in his heart for the kingdom. He would give anything to it, even his life without a seconds thought if it meant protecting her from harm.

So lost in his thoughts was the prince, he only automatically turned the collar of his shirt up as a cool breeze danced teasingly across his neck, thinking nothing of it. However, when this was followed by ghostly fingertips brushing their way across his shoulders and through his hair in a caressing motion, Arthur visibly jumped, spinning sharply around. But there was nothing there.

"Get a grip," he muttered sullenly to himself, striding across the room and sitting on the edge of his bed, letting his head rest atop his linked hands. He was so tired; obviously his mind was playing tricks on him. Lying backwards with a sigh, Arthur stared unseeingly at the ceiling, his legs still hanging over the side.

"Arrthhurr…"

With a groan, Arthur sat back up again. He was definitely going to kill Merlin in the morning, if the servant lasted that long. It was only because he didn't want to disturb Gaius that he didn't go and kill the idiot now.

"Merlin, if that is you, give it up or I'll have you in the stocks for a week."

"You have to help me, Arthur."

"Merlin! I'm beginning to get really annoyed here!"

"Arthur. Arthur, you must help me…"

Springing to his feet, the prince glared threateningly around the room, knowing that someone besides himself was residing in it at the moment. Resisting the urge to look under the bed, just in case it was Merlin, he didn't want the fool to know he had managed to make the hairs on Arthur's arms stand up, Arthur spun slowly on the spot, searching, whilst at the same time, his hand smoothly snuck out to one side until it fell on the comforting weight of his sword. Feeling the hands dance across his back again, Arthur spun sharply around, his sword swinging wildly in a way that the prince was ashamed of as he did so.

With a gasp, Arthur caught sight of the woman standing directly in front of him only a split second before his flailing sword came swinging through the air. Unable to stop himself, Arthur felt his breathing quicken in panic as he realised it was going to hit her. He made to open his mouth, trying some desperate attempt to warn her, but he was too late. Shutting his eyes in horror, Arthur turned away as he felt the sword collide with her.

"Why won't you help me?"

Snapping his eyes open again, Arthur physically felt his jaw drop. She was standing in exactly the same place, the close contact meant there was no way he could deny that. He also knew that there was no way the sword could have missed her. And yet, the woman was still just standing there, seemingly not having noticed that she should be dead.

"How-?" Words stolen from him for once, all Arthur could do was gape, watching in amazement as the woman stretched out a pale hand, caressing his cheek in a way that made him involuntary shudder. She was so cold.

"Will you help me?"

Making to snatch her hand away, Arthur jumped backwards in shock as his hand passed straight through hers. There could be no denying it this time, he had definitely gone through her.

"Who are you?"

"I'm so lost. Will you help me?"

Staring at her, his brain unable to form a coherent thought, Arthur opted for tightening his grip on his sword even more, although a small part of him realised it wouldn't do him any good. This had to be a dream. Things like this didn't happen in real life, not unless there was dark sorcery involved. And yet, although he didn't know how he knew, Arthur knew this was not sorcery. It was something far older, something far more powerful. Instinctively, Arthur knew that no sorcerer, no matter how powerful, had the power that this girl in front of him had. She could destroy with a single thought.

"What do you want?"

"Help me."

Unable to take it any longer, Arthur nodded, not knowing what he was agreeing too. All he knew was that perhaps if he agreed to help her, she would disappear, allowing the prince to go back to the reality he knew and felt safe in. Even sorcerer's died when he swung his sword at them. The fact that this mere girl didn't so much as notice had him almost trembling. Something was very wrong.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Find me." And before Arthur could so much as blink, the woman vanished. One second she was there, the next, nothing. Letting out an explosive breath, Arthur once more perched on the edge of his bed and shakily ran a hand through his hair. What the hell had that been? Wondering if he was perhaps imagining it, the prince glanced down at the hand strongly gripping the sword. Hearing a familiar creak, he looked back up to see his door slowly edging its way open. But no one came through it, just a cool breeze that seemed to weave its way around the man. He knew then, without a doubt, that this was no dream.

Slowly standing up, the prince headed out of the room, trying not to think about how quiet it was. Stealing his way along the corridor, Arthur had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, but had a feeling he knew someone that would think this whole thing would be great fun considering his previous attitude. In fact, if it wasn't for how creepily unnerved Arthur was, he would have said Merlin was behind the whole thing. But as the breeze continued to follow him down the corridor, making the torches flicker and send their shadows dancing across the walls, he knew that this was no prank.

MMMM

Unfortunately for Merlin, Arthur had been right in his predictions that no sorcerer, or warlock for that matter, could overcome the power of something that wasn't even off this world. Merlin knew his magical was natural to him, it was part of his being, brought into life when he was, that it would disappear when he died. But the magic of the room was something more than that. It couldn't be penetrated, nothing he did revealed a way out for the warlock. He had even just tried blasting the wall away, but the spell had merely fizzled away to nothing, leaving a bewildered and slightly worried servant behind. He had even tried lying back down on the same spot, peering out into the corridor, but there had been nothing there. The hole through which he had (somehow) come through no longer existed, stone surrounded the room from top to bottom.

Leaning casually against the wall, Merlin folded his arms across his chest, gazing up at the blue orbs he had sent to illuminate the room. He couldn't understand why that spell remained strong, and yet anything else he tried just simply disappeared. It was as if the room wanted him to be in here, like it wanted him to discover what was in it. If he was honest, Merlin was desperately trying _not_to think about what else was in the room, for whenever he did, it sent shudders down his spine, but the servant was finding in harder and harder to resist thinking about the body. Who was it? Why had no one giving it a proper burial? Did anyone even know who it was? Part of him felt like it was right he had found it, it would mean that he could give it the proper burial it deserved, something he knew not even Arthur would mock him about. The only problem with that plan was the small fact of him being stuck the wrong side of a very solid wall that seemed to be withstanding everything the warlock was throwing at it. It was most disconcerting. Ever since the time of being trapped in the cave by the troll, Merlin had become quite good at spells preventing such things from happening again, even if he did say so himself. And so to once more be trapped with the knowledge that no one knew where he was, even Merlin was finding his normally endless supply of optimism was draining somewhat.

"Wait! I need to know what to do! How do I find you?" Jumping in surprise, Merlin sprung away from the wall. There could be no denying that voice, even if Arthur was sounding more unnerved than Merlin had ever heard him. But what was confusing him even more was how on earth could he hear him? There was a supposedly solid stone wall in between the two of them, something that was strong enough to withstand anything the most powerful warlock prophesised about decided to throw at it. So how on earth could Merlin hear the prince's voice?

"Arthur?" Calling as loudly as he dared, Merlin stared at the wall, holding his breath in the hope that Arthur could hear him as clearly as he could hear the prince.

"Merlin?" Letting out a shout of laughter at Arthur's confused tone, Merlin sighed in relief, unable to stop the grin spreading its way across his face. If Arthur could hear him, maybe he would have some idea of how on earth to get him out.

"Merlin? Where the hell are you?"

"You may not believe this, Sire, but… I'm in the wall."

For a moment, silence met Merlin's somewhat confusing statement and despite himself, Merlin had to smirk. He knew precisely what face the prince would be pulling about now, it was not one Arthur often let other people see, because it was not often the Crown Prince of Camelot would be prepared to admit that he had no idea what was going on.

"You are in the wall?" Arthur repeated slowly, disbelief echoing through his voice. Rolling his eyes, Merlin wondered how on earth he was going to explain this one to his master and not be ridiculed for the rest of his life for it.

"Is there a hole in the stone near your feet?"

"What, _Mer_lin?"

"Just look, Sire, please."

"What the hell-? Merlin, what did you do to the wall?"

"I didn't put the hole there! Whatever you do, don't look through it. I did, and kind of, well, I don't quite know _where_ I am, only that I can't get back out again."

"Talk me through what you can see," Arthur ordered, pacing the stretch of corridor that ran parallel with the wall his servant was somehow trapped behind. Of all the people in Camelot it could happen to, it had to be Merlin. Feeling the breeze strengthen somewhat, Arthur shivered involuntary; somehow knowing what had happened to Merlin was linked in with the strange experiences he was witnessing. Meaning it naturally was all Merlin's fault.

"I'm in a room," Merlin reported, spinning slowly on the spot and allowing his eyes to roam around his surroundings, drinking everything in so he could tell Arthur. It was coming as a bit of a surprise how calmly the prince was taking everything, his tone of voice was seeming to reflect some of the bewilderment Merlin was feeling, but in the sense of something happening that could not be explained. "It's quite empty apart from the cobwebs and the floating lights-,"

Breaking off suddenly, Merlin winced. Why on earth did he have to mention the light? What if Arthur started asking questions about where they came from? Merlin may have been able to hide his magic from the prince on a day-to-day basis, but even he wasn't sure whether he could lie directly to Arthur's face when asked specifically about them. The only good thing with being stuck behind a wall was that Arthur could not see him, did not get the chance to question the strange expression that had just crossed his servant's face. Luckily for the warlock, Arthur was too preoccupied with trying to work out how the two events they were both experiencing were linked. Noting Merlin's hesitating, the prince pushed him further.

"And…"

"Just say it, _Mer_lin."

"There's a body. Or, what is left of one." Ignoring the slight tremor in Merlin's voice as he almost whispered the last part, Arthur instead felt a smile slip onto his face. That was the link between the two events. He had found the woman, and judging by the way the wind suddenly picked up, she knew it.

"Arthur? Sire, are you there?" Arthur, however, didn't answer his servant. Instead, he was staring down the corridor, watching in fascination as the woman once more appeared. He blinked, and she had travelled half way up the stretch of hallway, coming to a stop directly in front of him. Once more reaching out her hand, Arthur let her run it seductively down the side of his face.

"You found me," she whispered, pressing her body closer to his. Swallowing hard, Arthur tried not to squirm.

"What do I do now?"

"Set me free. Please, set me free, you have to…"

"Merlin!" Yelling out for his servant, Arthur tried to back away, but the figure held on close, wrapping herself around him.

"Are you alright? Arthur, what's going on?"

"Merlin, burn the body!"

"What?" Merlin yelped, staring at the wall in astonishment. Was Arthur completely mad? He had been hoping more for a genius plan of how to get him out from behind a supposedly solid wall, not that. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"I can't think of everything!" Arthur yelled back, beginning to feel decidedly uncomfortable as he felt his back hit the stone wall behind him, yet she still kept coming. "Hurry up though!"

Wondering what on earth could be going on, Merlin stared around him wildly, his mind going completely blank about what he could use to start a fire. Arthur had sounded strange, almost as if he was close to panicking, and yet his servant couldn't work out what could have the prince so spooked, he wasn't the one trapped behind a wall.

"Merlin!"

"I'm trying!" Merlin hollered back instantly, despite the fact he had yet to move. There was simply nothing he could use in the room to start a fire. With a sudden bitter laugh, the warlock rolled his eyes as the answer came to him. He was supposed to be a powerful warlock, he didn't _need_anything to start a fire.

Crossing the room, Merlin stood over the remains, one hand outstretched. Letting the words come to the forefront of his mind, he let the magic explode out of him, eyes flashing golden as he did so.

"Exuro!"

It was only as the remains began to burn in earnest that Merlin realised he now had another problem to worry about. He was trapped in a small room, now a small room with a fire. A fire, he might add, that was beginning to become very smoky. Coughing, Merlin felt his eyes beginning to stream, before he was once more doused in the sensation of ice cold water. Considering the heat of the room, it was not a bad feeling, but the relief of hitting the stone floor and finding himself gazing at Arthur's feet was more than anything he could ask for. Leaning backwards, Merlin lay flat out in the middle of the corridor, staring around him with grateful eyes. He had never been so happy to see the boring grey stonework again, as for a short while, the warlock had been beginning to panic slightly.

Eventually turning his attention to Arthur, more because of the concern that the prince had yet to say anything, something that must have been a record for him, Merlin propped himself up on his elbows, frowning at him.

"You alright?" Arthur merely nodded, his breathing shallow and quick. For with Merlin's reappearance, the figure had disappeared. But Arthur knew it was more than that, it had been with the destroying of the body that she had vanished, being set free in order to join the gods. After a few moments of stunned silence, the prince almost seemed to shake himself out of his musings, standing up properly and raising an eyebrow at the fact his servant was still simply sitting on the floor.

Striding off down the corridor, the prince traced the familiar route, determined this time that he would be able to get some sleep. The feeling of being watched had disappeared, something he was not at all surprised about. He knew it would have disappeared as soon as she had vanished. What was unnerving the prince now was that he knew there had been some truth in what Merlin had been saying about the dead coming back, even if the servant himself had not realised it.

"Hey, Arthur?" Turning on his heel, Arthur peered somewhat blearily up the corridor, his tired eyes having to work twice as hard to make out his servant. Merlin had finally found his feet, heading off towards the opposite end of the corridor. Even from this distance though, Arthur could make out his wide grin.

"Trick or treat?"

_The End._


End file.
